


what you whispered (should be screamed)

by Sedgewick



Series: In the Land of Gods and Monsters [1]
Category: Chaos Walking - Patrick Ness
Genre: Dubious Consent, Entirely Head Canon, F/M, Generally Rapey Atmosphere, M/M, Made-up Name for Canon Character, Stream of Consciousness, Terrible Implications, Unhealthy Relationships, Zero Betas Utilized
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-04
Updated: 2013-09-04
Packaged: 2017-12-25 14:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/954442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sedgewick/pseuds/Sedgewick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>David loved the black oil smudge ringed round his head like a halo smell of blood and gasoline but not Jonathan never Jonathan.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you whispered (should be screamed)

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote the bulk of this in a mad fever one morning, straight out of nowhere. I've been sitting on it for a while because once I sobered up it's like: What is this mess I can't show people this. So I tried to polish it a bit, trying to keep the hot mess of it intact. I still have no idea how this happened. Hopefully I'm not the only one who can understand it and it's not complete shit, since this is my first fanfic in years and my first CW fic ever and I have no idea what I'm doing.
> 
> So. Deep breath. Enough sitting on this. Just throw it out there hope I'm not butchered. 
> 
> Title taken from [The Dead Weather's Gasoline](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AesEA-U4GAU), which should be regarded as the themetune to this whole ordeal.
> 
> EDIT 9/22/13: Poked at some things, added a new paragraph.  
> EDIT 8/7/14: And holy shit, it's almost been a year. I've revised/added a ton of things, which basically means more sex and more terrible implications. Oh and more squishy relationship fluff. Because I'm just that depraved. This is definitely gonna be split up into chapters, as I've decided against all better judgement to include BOTH WARS in the story.

David never loved Jonathan.  
  
David loved the black oil smudge ringed round his head like a halo smell of blood and gasoline but not Jonathan _never_ Jonathan.  
  
( _No, never._ )  
  
David only cared one great Goddamn for Jonathan when his Noise turned green-black like swamp water stirred in with bile and sorrow and terror and rage from each and every time he was made to fuck the wife that he didn't choose never wanted in the hopes that she'd finally get herself pregnant with the grandchild ( _never his child, no_ ) his Father wanted so bad he was willing to whore out his only son to a woman 70 years his senior who he'd never even spoken to until the day his Father announced that she would be joined to him until death did they part.  
  
That was the only time David paid Jonathan any mind.  
  
David paid Jonathan quite a deal of mind.  
  
No one knew him invited him to settle in New Elizabeth just followed them up river set up shop. No one wanted anything to do with him knew there was something not right in him in his Noise looks at you like he wants to get inside your skin and tear you up and never did try to hide it. For him, it started with an overcrowded lust-filled smirk tongue sliding across lips and the stink of gasoline and a _Just call me Jack_ , duly ignored because _There is no way in hell I am calling that man Jack_ , rolls his eyes and scoffs at that man only making a fool of himself trying to put on a show, almost feels embarrassed for him picks up his pace tho he can still feel his eyes on his back feeling him sure as his hands would.  
  
But the day's judgements don't have much of a place when night's fallen and he storms out of his house--his _marital home_ \-- feeling dizzy a ringing in his head like he's going to vomit for the second time that night just looking for anything to ease it all even though he can't possibly go to his only real friend, because no matter how sympathetic she is ( _says she is but how does he know?_ ) to his plight, she still sloughs off every disgusting feeling there is to feel just like every other women in this pit of a town and there he is leaning up against the doorway of the gas station come hither _knew you'd be around eventually_ look on every feature on his damn toothy face.  
  
So he lets himself drown in it the sickly oily Noise of this man who thinks up pictures that you can't make with just your imagination, shows him vids that he says ain't nothing but movies but he can't help but wonder at how real the screams of the women--almost always women--are and even though he feels like he should be repulsed like he ought to tell Jessica (he hopes it's too much even for her), he feels nothing but a sinister glee and smiles to himself as he watches the teeth of the woman on screen clink into a metal pan, one, two, three, and suddenly he doesn't feel so sick in the stomach or the head.  
  
So when they fuck, there isn't a drop of any kind feeling in it ( _there isn't_ ) and he doesn't want it any other way ( _he doesn't_ ).  
  
The first time is after another night with his wife, a title he spits like the name of his greatest enemy tho she ain’t anything much more than a pawn, but she ain't got no name far as he's concerned and he keeps clear of her much as he can except on those nights where he can't because no matter how hard he tries to hide it, people hear him, hear how much he hates it and she talks, doesn't she just, to all her friends about how lax how peculiar he is in his duties and they giggle and console and _Oh you poor dear how dreadful_ like she didn't know what she was getting and when his Father catches word of it, well doesn't he have a thing or two to say about it too? So he thinks about sweat and stubble and strong calloused hands and Noise overheard ( _accidentally, accidentally_ ) from the farm up river bites the inside his cheek 'til he tastes blood and just lies back clothes barely off stares at the ceiling makes her do the work while he thinks about absolutely everything else and not the feeling like she's the one stabbing a hole into him making him feel as hollow as she is.  
  
And afterwards he doesn't go for aimless walks knows exactly where he's headed, and there he is in the doorway like always like he knows because he does, doesn't he? and he lets him use his shower turned on hot as it goes which isn't at all lets him scrub his skin raw lets him feel every deep black hate that peels off him that he ain't supposed to be feeling that no one else is willing to let him feel because _What kind of man are you?_ defective shameful inadequate failure, but no, he lets him have his ache and his anger and his _It ain't fair!_ and he don't judge him any just lets his Noise pour out his head all twisted full of every curse he wants to scream into the whole of this town but he can't except for now with this man who curls it into his own like he's happy to have it.  
  
So when he invites himself in still clothed but not caring hands snaking down his sides resting on his hips hot breath against his neck he can feel even under the lukewarm sputter of water shoves his tongue down his throat pulls him down onto the cold metal of the bathroom floor, a muttered _Tell me you want this_ like he's not used to saying it that he can only answer with his arms wrapped around his back and he can't find any reason in him to object because right now all he wants is to not think about what he's had to do been made to do what else he might be made to do and when he replaces his tongue with his fingers and too-quick moves them twixt his legs nudges them further apart with his knee and presses them inside this is the closest thing to right he's ever had. He makes sounds like dying but still pushes his hips back against those long fingers still begs for more and when he gives him more he doesn't care one bit how much it hurts or if he's bleeding or not just drinks him in like he does his Noise lit up with pictures of what he'd really like to do with him but he's holding back like he cares and God he wants that too, wants this man to control him no matter how much his nature rails against it because just once he'd like to choose not to have that control, give it willingly not have it torn away by his parents his wife this town this whole fucking planet that demands it from him every day of his life and when he comes he prays they can all hear it.  
  
He doesn't care what the daylight tells him what he knows when he's in a better mind of just how unhealthy destructive ruinous what they have is because he knows and he still doesn't care doesn't care about what he sees in his Noise the things he doesn't even try to hide from him like he's proud of how he found his way to the New World because he wasn't a rich man neither, no, but he found plenty of people who were but the money was really only a small bonus next to doing what he really loved. Everything in his better daylight mind tells him that he's sinking he's been sinking a while now and everything that this is only pulls him down faster but. But ain't nothin' else, is there, nothin' to soothe nor stop so why shouldn't he embrace it wrap himself around it enjoy what little there is to be enjoyed because he could be dead tomorrow by his own hands or this planet's if there's any difference anyway.  
  
He doesn't limit his visits to those nights anymore. Shows up at his door whenever he pleases never not welcome just wanting to lose himself in that delirious control of no control and he doesn't care if word gets around let it let them think every dirty thing their imaginations might conjure up and they'll match it, the two of them. He smiles to think of how damn near chaste that first time was held against everything since, yet still there’s a disarming gentleness to it all in the way Jonathan touches him afterwards and looks him in the eyes even though David never lets anyone do that.  
  
Word does get around in this rotting little town of course nothing better to do with itself but stare at the lives of others with cruel eyes. They ask _Why him?_ when they mean _Why not me?_ , because what kind of person would willingly _He's forcing him, you know, it's blackmail_ bed filthy disgusting horrible Mr Hammar _He could have his pick of anyone in town and he chooses_ him? They maintain the illusion of respect afforded to a Caretaker a man whose life's work is to to ensure that they don't die who's given so much to this town they smile and greet him as he walks past and don't notice how loud they think _slut_. His Father finds out of course like he finds everything out and he shows him just how wrong he's been _You think you enjoy letting him_ fuck _you?_ shows him like how he's been quietly wanting promising to show him for years and it takes everything to stop Jonathan from killing him no matter how much he wants it too.  
  
They understand each other, he thinks, though it angers him that he can't quite know, the man's Noise a roiling tempest that begs him to decode it but he can only ever catch shattered pieces except for what he wants him to see. He wonders why he even cares when no one else does, this madman the only one who's truly _kind_ to him, he thinks the most obvious answer-- using him exploiting his weakness to gain access to his body but then. But then. There's something more he can feel it one of those biting shards pulled from his Noise that suggests sympathy only no, no something even more. _Empathy_. And just what would a killer a monster be doing with something like that in his heart?     
  
He doesn't care what Jessica has to say about it He's a bad influence he's changing you, because Funny, they used to say the same about you. But it is different he gives him what she can't because she'll never understand _(because she's empty_ ), Jessica who never did a thing she didn't want to even when she got herself knocked up and they all expected her to marry whoever it was _(She didn't even tell him)_ yet she said no and that was the end of it but did she do a thing to help him ( _did she?_ ) when his Father decided it was his turn and wouldn't take no for an answer? Yet when his Father comes to the station yelling demanding _Let me see my son!_ tries to push his way in does Jonathan let him? _Jonathan breaks his nose._  
  
And on those nights he's made to spend at home, he shows that woman just what he'd rather be doing what he's got to think about if he wants this to be over imagines that it's Jonathan on top of him riding him with fire in his eyes his head thrown back in a jackal's laugh and when she looks at him with horror in her eyes like she had no idea he just grins because _I don't belong to you, not you or anybody_ and if she cries to her friends over what a degenerate she unknowingly wed let her let his Father rage and scream _You're no son of mine_ punish him however he likes he'll just smile because those words that once would destroy him, make him feel like nothing, now make him proud because _I want no father like you_ and the blood in his mouth tastes sweet.


End file.
